


wrap your thoughts in works of art

by Lire_Casander



Series: make a feast out of these crumbs (the Alex Manes Appreciation Week 2019) [5]
Category: American Idol RPF, Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Week 2019, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 01:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: though my edges may be rough i never feel i'm quite enough





	wrap your thoughts in works of art

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary taken from _I'm Yours_ by The Script. It belongs to the _**make a feast out of these crumbs (the Alex Manes' Appreciation Week 2019)**_ series, whose title also belongs to a song by The Script, _Live Like We're Dying_.
> 
> This is written for the [Alex Manes' Appreciation Week](https://rawandmessyandbeautiful.tumblr.com/post/184555967345/ive-created-this-appreciation-week-in-response) over at tumblr, _**Day 6: Crossovers, fusions, other fandoms**_
> 
> Anything you recognize is not mine, although any and every mistake is my own.
> 
> Thanks to [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow) for supporting this crazy little idea, and [Shenanigans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans) for providing the inspiration when the muse decided to take a break.

**Iraq. 2014**

The desert stretches out in front of him, miles and miles of endless sand covering every inch of the landscape. He’s come here in an attempt to forget about his past, and somehow he’s ended up surrounded by the most poignant reminder he could ever get. With a sigh, Alex shakes his head to clear it from the haze caused by the heatwave, and turns around to face Clarkson.

“You ready?” she gestures at her back, where a makeshift stage is being settled by some of the civilians visiting them these days. 

"To have some fun?" he asks, shrugging his melancholy off. "I'm always ready for fun."

He follows her to the empty space in front of the stage, where their squad is already sitting, waiting for the show to begin. "I've heard this time they're bringing some big name," Alonzo is saying when Alex reaches them. The other man winks at him and pats the spot by his side, motioning for Alex to seat there. He hesitates for a second before flopping down. Alonzo is one of his best friends in the military, and Alex feels at ease around him more often than not, but they're being treated to a concert of sorts in the middle of the desert. Alex has yet to decide how he feels about allowing music to touch his soul again. 

He vowed out of music after the toolshed and the hammer and the violence it unchained after Guerin was shoved out of the Manes property bloody and broken. It took him years to even listen to a song without feeling like his soul would never recover from the pain. And now that he is a different person – a field-experienced codebreaker who could destroy any intelligence firewalls across the globe – he's not at all sure that he can bear being alone with music again. 

That's why he closes his eyes against the burning sun when his friends – his _family_ – start bickering. 

"Manes? Alex Manes? Oh, gosh, is it really you?" he hears at his right. He flinches at the voice but when he recognizes it, his eyes widen and he stands up to face the last person he'd have expected to meet in war zone. 

"No way," he almost stutters, shocked and pleased and every other feeling in between. "What's David Archuleta doing in Iraq?" 

They stare at each other for long seconds, as though wondering how fate has conspired to make them rejoin miles and miles from well known grounds. After what feels like a lifetime but Alex knows for sure it's only a couple of heartbeats, they both reach out at the same time and meet each other halfway into a bone crushing embrace. 

Alex holds onto David longer than politely accepted, but he knows David isn’t complaining because he's as clingy as Alex remembers him to be. He laughs into David's shoulder, but it ends up sounding more like a sob. 

He hasn't known he's missed David so much until now. 

"It’s so cool to have met you here! How long's it been, six, seven years?" David chirps when they finally separate. "I didn't think you'd want to keep on with the family tradition!" 

Alex winces at the mention of family David so nonchalantly makes, but quickly covers for it with a vague wave of his hand. "You know, couldn’t be the only Manes to have never seen the world."

"I have to go now," David says, looking over Alex’s shoulder. "What d'you say we have a chat afterwards? I really want to catch up with what's been going on with your life, Alex."

Alex ponders for half a second his chances of getting out of an unexpected encounter, but finds himself eager to reconnect with that part of his part – one that's entangled with pain as well, but he's already beginning to make peace with everything that happened before Michael Guerin. 

He nods. 

"Later, then," David smiles brightly, and Alex gets reminded of the sun moving to its peak in the horizon, just as it did when they first met when they were both young and unafraid. 

He falls back into his spot on the sand, consciously ignoring the questions fired his way. He doesn’t want to explain how he took a red-eye bus to San Diego instead of Dallas because California was far enough for his father not to follow him there. He doesn’t want to relate how he barely made it to the auditions with his guitar and a number patched on the front of his t-shirt, or what he felt when he first listened to David Archuleta singing his John Mayer’s song as warmup. They’d exchanged phone numbers right before David was given his ticket to Hollywood – they had started talking at the very beginning of the long hours of waiting and despairing because they were numbers 11394 and 11395. Alex doesn’t want to talk about how Jeff Archuleta had treated them both with a late lunch after the auditions, how David had comforted him over a milkshake by saying Alex would have his chance soon enough. But what he really isn’t up to tell is the weight of a belt on his back, the hiss of the buckle through the air before colliding against his skin, tender and open, when his father found out about his escapade and tracked him down to San Diego to drag him back down to New Mexico.

He still wears the faded scars on his back.

Everyone falls silent when David comes on stage, all smiles and light, and Alex can’t help the tug he feels at his heart when the first notes of _Bring Him Home_ float through the thick desert air. Everyone in base is there, sitting or leaning against the posts, listening to David. Alex knows what it feels like to be lost in that voice, because he’s been there before. He distinctly remembers his sixteen-year-old self rambling on about music and lyrics and notes and love, and how David had jumped onto the same mindwave almost instantly. He wishes he hadn’t stopped texting David when things got worse at home, because it probably looked like he was jealous of David’s success when he really wasn’t. 

When that hammer took his future away from him and Basic stole what was left of his soul, Alex had wanted to cut ties with anything that reminded him of happier times. 

Seemingly David has forgiven him for that, and he’s glad that someone who knew him before the downfall is still willing to let him relearn the way back.

When the last song is over, David grins broadly and leaves the stage in a swift movement. Alex gets himself up and shakes off the dust on his sleeves before looking around for David, who’s already motiong for him to go over the tent besides the stage. Alex shoulders off the questioning look Alonzo is throwing his way, and takes one step in the right direction. The second step is easier to take, and before he can think of it, he’s walking slowly towards his past, waiting for him by that open entrance.

He follows David inside the tent without even daring a last glance over his shoulder.

**Roswell. 2018**

The Wild Pony is vibrating under the loud music and the even louder patrons when Alex steps in, getting rid of his leather jacket as soon as the heat inside hits him. The place is packed, and not for the first time he wonders why he’s agreed to go downtown.

“You said your friend would be here by seven,” Maria reminds him gently when he claims a spot at the bar, complaining about the crowd. “It’s not my fault you decided to meet up with him here on a Saturday.”

Alex shakes his head, grabbing the beer she’s dropped in front of him. “It’s the only day he’s free from all his duties.”

“Your friend is a really busy man,” she smiles. “By the way, you have yet to tell me his name. Or are we going to play by Museum Guy rules all over again? I don’t want to guess who he is.”

“Oh, believe me, you’ll know the moment he enters,” Alex promises, taking a swig from his beer. From the corner of his eye he spots Guerin at the pool tables, cowboy swagger in full display as he tries to impress his newest flirt. He dampers the sharp pain in his chest by drinking a bit more of his beer, until he’s halfway through it. At this speed, he’s going to be already drunk by the time David comes by.

Which is pretty much right now if the ruckus by the entrance is anything to go by.

Alex doesn’t turn around, used by now to the hubbub David’s presence sparks every time he shows up in a public place unannounced. He’s been a witness to it several times these past four years; ever since they found each other in Iraq they’ve tried to keep up with their friendship, and although it’s been a tough ride due to David’s schedules and Alex being overseas most of the time, they’ve met a fair amount of times. Last time it was Alex who flew up to Utah for Claudia’s wedding, so now it’s David’s turn to visit Roswell.

“Holy shit,” Maria swears from her spot behind the bar. “It can’t be.”

“It is,” Alex laughs slightly. “Told you I wasn’t joking, you’d know who it’d be.”

“No shit,” Maria exclaims. Alex can feel David sitting by the stool besides him, and he dares a glance up at Maria who’s now simply staring agape at the new customer she’s got in her bar. 

“Hey, Alex,” David greets. A few patrons have followed him to the bar, having recognized him even behind the cap – or maybe because of it. “You were right, it wasn’t difficult to find this place.”

“You were afraid of getting lost for no reason,” Alex greets back, turning to his side and reaching out to pull David into a tight hug. “Missed you, man.”

“Missed you too,” David says. “Let’s not get another six months without seeing each other.”

“Well, it wasn’t me who had all those shows across the country,” Alex reminds him. “Lemme introduce you to my best friend,” he continues when David huffs. “David, this is Maria DeLuca. Maria, this is my friend David-”

“Archuleta,” she cuts him off. “How on earth-” She catches herself before saying something inappropriate, and Alex will forever be grateful for that. “Nice to meet you, David,” she says instead. “What can I get you?”

“Uhm, just a Coke, please?”

“Perfect,” she’s back into her bartender mode, but before turning around to fetch David’s drink she manages to mouth to Alex, _you, me, later_ , which has him laughing even louder. She’s back with the Coke and leaves them on their own to shoo whoever might want to bother them.

“So,” David starts before getting started with his drink. “What’re you up to these days? Have you already managed to talk to this guy you told me about?”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s not that simple, David. I could ask you the same,” he counteracts. “Have you and your guy talked _at all_?”

“He’s married now,” David offers as explanation, shoulders down and pain in his voice. “No point in stirring up things that were forgotten a long time ago.”

“Not on your part, anyway,” Alex sighs. “I’m sorry you lost him, though. But you deserve to be happy with someone who puts you first.”

“You know you do, too.” David shakes himself and straightens up. “So if I have to go and kick some reason into a thick skull, I will. You and Museum Guy are meant for each other.”

Alex doesn’t regret having told David about his moment with Guerin in the UFO Emporium, but he doesn’t like to be reminded of how right it felt to be with him because every time he’s been that close to being happy his father has managed to break him. “I lost my chance, you know,” he states, finishing his beer. He puts it down with enough force to make David wince. “I kept walking away from him, and he just got tired of it.”

“True love doesn’t ever get tired,” David muses. “What was it that he told you? That he never looked away? That’s some declaration right there, Alex. I don’t think anyone who said that would ever get tired of waiting.” David places a hand on top of Alex’s, which is already trembling with frustration and sadness. He’s just started rubbing circles into his skin when Alex feels a hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly.

“Excuse me,” he hears at his back, and the drawl sends shivers down his spine, starting from the spot where fingers are tattooing a brand through the fabric of his shirt. “I think we haven’t been introduced. I’m Michael Guerin.”

Alex spins around in disbelief. Guerin isn’t the kind of man to get out of his way to talk to strangers unless he was looking for a fight. “What the actual-”

“Guerin, huh?” David asks with a glint of amusement in his voice. “I’m David. Nice to _finally_ meet you.”

“David!” Alex groans, unable to decide whether to hit both of them or to hide underneath the bar. Maria’s not going to help him, he realizes when he looks over at her for support and finds her perched on the bar as if the scene unfolding is the most interesting thing in the world.

“I’d say the same, but Alex here has _never_ talked about you.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything about my life, Guerin,” Alex groans. 

“Yeah, I got that when you decided I was a criminal you didn’t need to be related to,” Guerin bites back. Alex just wants to flee somewhere far away, and the feeling just gets stronger when David stares at him in the wake of Guerin’s words.

“Did you really call him a criminal? I thought it was an exaggeration on your part.”

Alex shakes his head again, fear and heat bubbling up inside of him, threatening to suffocate him. It is too much – the weight of Guerin’s hand on his shoulder, the sharp look in David’s eyes, the speeding of his own heart rate. Guerin’s words, piercing through him in all their simplicity, loaded with everything they have never been able to say. David’s soft look as though he’s seeing right through Alex, into his pained soul. “I need air,” he finally manages to choke out, scrambling down from the stool and limping his way out of the Pony before anyone can stop him.

Outside, he leans against the wall and tries to control his breathing the way he was taught during his sessions after losing his leg. He’s used to panic attacks by now, but it’s the first one he’s had about something unrelated to the military. He closes his eyes and breathes in, exhaling after five seconds, and repeating the motions a few more times.

He doesn’t want to think about how Guerin has sounded as jealous while talking to David as Alex felt when he saw him flirting at the pool tables.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he hears at his left, and he jumps. “I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t,” he retaliates, eyes still closed. “Go back inside, Guerin. Don’t want your date to think you’re bolting out.”

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” Guerin snarls.

“I am not,” Alex barks back. “It wasn’t me who just went and interrupted a perfectly nice friend date in there.”

“Alex,” Guerin says, and it comes out so pained that Alex has to open his eyes and look straight into that hazel gaze. They stare at each other in silence until Alex can’t bear it any longer.

“What do you want me to say, Guerin?” Alex finally exclaims. “You shouldn’t be here, I tried to push you away, you shouldn’t-you can’t-”

“You said I was your family,” Guerin whispers, wetting his lips nervously. “Never took you for a liar.”

“And you said you didn’t love me,” Alex frowns. “Who’s the bigger liar here, Guerin?”

“You saw right through that lie,” Guerin reminds him. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were my family. You _are_.”

Guerin purses his lips into a thin line, inhaling sharply through his nose. He leans into Alex, as though wanting to say something, but then he pulls back. Alex just blinks at him, not sure what’s going on between them, until Guerin mutters _fuck it_ under his breath and leans all the way into Alex, stealing a kiss from his lips.

At first he’s taken aback by the sheer force of Guerin’s frame against his own, but then he feels relief washing over him – _Michael_ is kissing him, and there’s a rush of forgiveness running through him as though Guerin’s projecting it. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if this is one of the new powers they said they may be developing. He half laughs, half sobs into the kiss; he thinks his legs are going to give underneath the weight of long lost love found again, but Guerin – _Michael_ – catches him, like he’s done every other time before.

Laughter wins over as he kisses back.

He ignores his phone buzzing in his pocket, only remembering he’s stormed out of the Pony and walked out on David when he’s lazily lying in the Airstream cot, a handful of Michael Guerin’s curls between his fingers as the cowboy sleeps peacefully. He moves slowly to prevent Michael from waking up and fishes his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. With a smile, he reads the text that lights up in the screen.

_I get to be best man at your wedding, and you know it. Oh, and Maria wants maid of honor._

“Of course you do,” Alex mutters, laughter bubbling up again in his throat. He decides to text back later, for now he needs to keep his fingers busy threading through messy curls that he gets to call, for once, _his_.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been the first time I've written David Archuleta as a character in any fanfiction for almost ten years. Please forgive any OOC-ness that might have ensued. I have tweaked a bit the timelines for him being in the Middle Eaast; while he actually went to Afghanistan in 2014 to sing for the troops deployed there, I'm not sure about him really flying to Iraq to do the same. 
> 
> I really hope you've enjoyed reading this just as much as I've enjoyed coming back to a bit of the fandom that meant everything to me for so long.


End file.
